Not Forgotten
by TammyCat
Summary: Given a chance, would you trade who you are to continue living? Prowl and Jazz face this choice.
1. Chapter 1

**Another new fic when I have plenty that need work...it's not like I can say no to these two when they come knocking.**

**Please enjoy!**

* * *

Prowl's faceplate didn't show any expression as he entered the sparsely furnished room. There was a berth tilted at a forty-five degree angle, a control console and a single chair. The walls were a utilitarian grey that sapped away any joy in his spark. The difference in the décor was intentional; he mechs brought to this room would never leave it. The change in atmosphere served to bring the point home and encourage any last minute confessions.

He hated this room. It felt like death.

Prowl's optics moved over the mech on the berth and his spark ached. He was chained at every possible joint, there was no way he could ever escape his bonds. The black frame was scratched and dented, evidence of his capture and subsequent interrogation. The mech had yielded sensitive information with only minor resistance, but not enough to stay his execution. He was classified as extremely dangerous, with a long list of offences to his name.

"Sir, you don't have to be here for this."

He turned to face the technician in charge of deactivating the prisoner. Weary blue optics in a grey face that had seen too much waited for him to leave. This Autobot had been taking sparks from Decepticon prisoners for several vorns and Prowl could see the duty was straining the poor mech. He made a mental note to reassign the technician elsewhere.

"Everybot deserves to have their end witnessed." Prowl replied, his voice steady and bland.

"Ya gonna mourn me, copbot?"

He turned his head and finally looked the prisoner in the optics. "Not for a moment."

The mech's face, dented and cracked with drying energon, faltered. The prisoner was clearly not used to being without a visor as his silver optics revealed his inner turmoil. Prowl's spark prickled knowing that he was going to be the last person this mech would ever see.

The once handsome face stared at him intently and Prowl could read the mech's desire to talk, not that anything he said would change his fate.

Prowl faced the Autobot again. "I would like to speak to the prisoner, please wait outside."

The technician darted a glance to the restrained prisoner. "Are you sure you want to be alone, sir?"

"The chances of him escaping and incapacitating me are infinitesimal, especially in his current state."

"I'll take ya on, copbot." The mech called out with a cackle.

Apparently reassured that his absence wouldn't get the Second in Command attacked, the tech threw a warning glare at the prisoner and left the chamber.

Prowl turned to face the berth. "You will be executed today, Meister."

"I know."

"You are resigned to your fate?"

White shoulders moved as much as they could within the restraints. "I expected to be dead long before now. I've been livin' on borrowed time."

"Do you understand why you are being executed?"

The mech grinned. "For my crimes against ya?"

Prowl nodded. "For your crimes against the Autobots and neutral Cybertronians alike."

He let out a low whistle. "Goin' all the way back, huh?"

"You will be held accountable for all the crimes we have evidence you were involved in."

Prowl moved around the room, deactivating the recording devices set up to document any last confessions.

"Ya gonna stay and watch?"

"Yes."

He stopped next to the inclined berth; silver optics looked up into his. The bare emotion in his gaze was Prowl's undoing. His spark jolted and started to race, the reality of the situation tearing at his control over his emotions.

"Not gonna mourn me, Prowler?"

"Not for a single moment, Meister."

The mech flinched, his optics full of hurt and confusion before he averted his gaze. Prowl brought his face back with a hand on his dented chin.

"I will mourn you for eternity."

Relief and slight amusement replaced the darker emotions swirling in his optics. Once again Prowl was amazed at the way this former-Decepticon could change moods.

Meister pressed his cheek into Prowl's hand. "Sweet talker, I don' know why tha Autobots think ya have no spark."

"None of them tried to find it. No one did until you."

Pride burst onto the face Prowl adored. It had been a tumultuous relationship from the beginning but somehow they had managed to make it work in an unorthodox kind of way.

Meister had been a Decepticon when he'd captured Prowl the first time. He'd tortured the senior tactician for information before realizing that Prowl wouldn't break. It had taken several days. Prowl had then managed to escape his bonds and knocked out his attacker in a brief scuffle before returning to base. From that point on Meister had appeared whenever Prowl had left the relative safety of Iacon, chipping away at Prowl's resistance.

Now Prowl looked down at his neutral lover and felt grief bloom in his spark. It had taken two vorns for Meister to get Prowl to stop shooting at him and talk, three more for Prowl to convince Meister to leave the Decepticons. Fights had been normal between them, physical and verbal as they tried to convert the other. Meister had finally agreed and defected, becoming a neutral. Less than seven orns later he had been caught by a routine patrol and brought back to Iacon.

"I'm sorry, Meister." Prowl said softly, linking his fingers with Meister's.

His free hand moved from his cheek and trailed over the marks left behind from the interrogation, willing away the pain. He touched each of the slices and burns, all of the areas where plating had been stripped and circuitry violated. Prowl had been present while Ironhide and Volt had drawn the information out of Meister, using every tool at their disposal. It had been terrible having to watch and do nothing as the knives carved into Meister's plating and the electrical charges flowed through his systems, making him thrash and cry out.

"Wha' for?"

"Being unable to save you. I didn't know they had you in custody until Optimus Prime informed me and by then you were already in interrogation." At that point he'd volunteered to be the officer observing the questioning.

Meister's shoulders moved again in a subdued shrug. "Not ya fault, babe. I shoulda known better than to hang out so close to Iacon's borders."

Prowl's doorwings drooped; Meister had been waiting for him at the boundary of Iacon's territory. He would abuse himself for that later; right now he focused on Meister's expressive optics. He'd been fascinated by the odd colour of his optics from the moment he'd broken Meister's visor and seen them. At the moment they were clear and gazing steadily back at him, no sign of fear for what was coming.

"You don't seem concerned."

Meister laughed and Prowl could just hear the tension in the light sound. "If I wasn' strapped down so well, I'd be shakin'… But I'll be alright; I've got ya here with me until they unplug me. Then I'll wait for ya in the Well."

Prowl smiled, a small lift of his lips. "I suspect even in the Well you will manage to cause trouble."

Meister grinned crookedly. "That's what I'm good for."

He shook his head once more and looked around the room. The technician would be back soon. Optimus Prime would most likely attend as well, if only to briefly speak to Meister. His leader liked these events even less than Prowl did. The Prime's view of all sentient life being allowed a chance for survival was noble but not always achievable. In Meister's case, he'd been causing havoc for far too long to simply be given the chance to escape and destroy whatever building he was in.

It would be practically impossible for Meister to escape his current situation….However, Prowl's optics narrowed as he surveyed the room with his tactical programming running; it wasn't unusual for Meister to escape in circumstances just as dire as this one.

"Whatever ya thinkin' of doin', stop it."

Prowl jerked his gaze back to Meister. "I have done nothing yet."

Meister's fingers tightened on his. "Yet. I know that look. Ya tryin' to find a way for me to escape. Stop. It's not worth ya position here."

"You are worth any sacrifice." Prowl said firmly, genuinely believing his words.

The black helm shook. "No, I'm not. I've fragged up a lot in my life but I won' let ya do the same. Ya the only one who fought for me, Prowler, let me do this and we can start new in the Well."

Prowl's doorwings drooped further as he accepted his lover's words and shut down his programming. "I'm sorry I did not do anything to stop them during the interrogation. Even after you'd given everything you knew."

The often hidden brow ridge quirked. "Knowin' ya were there kept me goin' Prowler. I knew ya wouldn' let 'em hurt me too bad. Besides, I didn' tell 'em eveythin' I know."

It was Prowl's turn to look confused. "What did you keep back?"

Meister's optics darkened subtly, his grin turned lustful and Prowl spark jumped. "I didn' tell 'em about you. I didn' want 'em to know just how gorgeous ya look when ya teasin' me with ya doorwings. Or the way ya like it when I bite ya chevron. Certainly didn' want to tell them just how good it felt when we merged, spike to port and spark to spark."

Prowl's doorwings swept up his back, his energon heating and rushing through his body at his lover's words. He glared at Meister who grinned back unrepentantly. Prowl shook his head and dropped it onto Meister's shoulder, offlining his optics to enjoy the soothing pulse of a spark close to his.

"Must you make this harder than it already is?"

A soft chuckle came from beside his audio and he felt lips press against his chevron, the contact sending pleasurable sensations through his body.

"Sorry, Prowler. But I can't have ya forgettin' me after they smelt me down."

Prowl reared back at glared hotly down at Meister. "I doubt that will be an issue."

"Good. I'd hate to have to come back just to harass ya." Meister shifted and jerked his head to the side. His visor slipped down out of his helm and covered his optics. "Take it, it should be loose. I want ya to have it."

Prowl carefully removed the crystalline glass and inspected it. "This will not suit me nor will it integrate into my helm."

Meister's optics rolled. "Sure, now ya let ya sense'o'humour show. Slagger."

Prowl smiled softly again and leaned down to press a quick kiss against Meister's lips. "I will keep it safe for you."

"Ya'd better. I'll be back for that." Meister laughed.

"If there is a way to escape the Well, I'm certain you will be the one to find it."

Meister winked. "If I frag off Primus ya gotta come save me."

Prowl let a soft laugh escape. "I see life will not change much at all."

He read the invitation in Meister's silver optics and gave in to it. Leaning over the restrained body, Prowl pressed into him before sealing their lips together.

Heat sparked, running through his body until his doorwings trembled. A soft sound came from his trapped lover, making Prowl groan into the kiss as his spark whirled hotly. Meister always managed to bring forward his passionate side, whether it was as a fight or interfacing.

His hand moved over Meister's chest, playing over the bindings and stroking the plating. His lover shook and strained against the cables. Prowl could clearly read the arousal as Meister's energy field flared against his own.

"Prowl, maybe ya could loosen the cables just a little?"

He shook his head, a wicked smile on his faceplate. His wings perked up on his back and he increased the pressure of his touches.

"No, I don't think I will. You had your chance for my help. You denied me. Do you remember what happens when you deny me?"

A shudder ran through Meister's body that shook the berth. His energy field brushed against Prowl's before merging with it, allowing Prowl to feel his hands on Meister's chassis. His spark quivered in his chest as he kissed Meister desperately, his processor knew what they faced next but Prowl was resolutely ignoring it. He left Meister's lips to trail down his neck, biting at the delicate cables and lines.

Meister groaned and tilted his head to allow Prowl greater access. "Oh, Primus! That's so good." He thrashed as much as he could and growled. "Ya gonna kill me, Prowler."

The words crashed through Prowl's processor like a wave of iced coolant. He jerked away from the berth, cycling air heavily through his vents as he stared straight at the grey floor. The purpose of the room slamming into him and bringing home the reason they were there; Meister's execution.

Pain burst in his chest and a soft noise left his vocalizer. His processor stalled, overcome by the sheer force of the grief in his spark. The world turned hazy around the edges of his vision.

"Prowl, I'm sorry. Come back over here."

He continued to back away, putting as much distance between himself and the berth as possible. His vents roared in the small room as they tried to cool down the growing heat in his frame. He didn't want to watch Meister deactivated, he shouldn't have to. They should have had a chance to build a life together, maybe one day Bond and have sparklings. Now none of that was possible.

"Dammit, Prowl! Get over here."

Prowl's head snapped up, his optics locking on Meister's. It wasn't often that he heard that tone in his lover's voice anymore. It was the one he used when he was boxed into a corner, hints of desperation and frustration tinting his voice.

Prowl's peds moved without him consciously telling them to. Once again he was at Meister's side, black fingers reaching out for his.

"Ya said ya wouldn' leave me."

Prowl shook his head, clearing the distortion in his neural networks. He wrapped his hand around Meister's fingers. "I'm here."

"I'm sorry, Prowl. I didn' mean it like that."

"I know. I overreacted." Prowl replied, surprised at his own actions. He never overreacted, he was constantly being accused of not reacting enough.

Meister's head bobbed. "Ya okay?"

"I will be, I must be under more stress than I initially thought."

Meister's fingers tightened around his. "You'll take some time off after today won't you? Relax your processor?"

Prowl shook his head. "No. I will focus on my work."

"Prowler, ya need to take a break, ya work yaself into stasis regularly."

"What could I possibly do with leave time without you? I'll sit around and become morose. I'd rather work until I can overcome and control the emotions."

Prowl saw Meister accept his reasoning, he also saw how much Meister disliked it. Prowl ran a hand down the scratched cheek to reassure his lover.

"At least promise me you'll talk to somebody, make a few friends just so I know ya not alone." Meister persisted.

He nodded. He could do that; surely friends would not be terribly hard to find if he looked.

Prowl's internal chronometer ticked away the time and he knew their solitude would be broken soon. He leant down and pressed his helm against Meister's, gazing into his unique silver optics.

"I love you."

"I love ya too, Prowler."

The door opened abruptly and Prowl jerked back to see Optimus Prime, Ironhide and Ratchet in the doorway. He knew his optics were wide and surprise covered his faceplate but that didn't stop Prowl from trying to come up with a reasonable excuse for being compromisingly close to a prisoner.

His mouth opened and closed several times before sound came out. "Sir, it's not…I mean I was just…"

Optimus Prime's hand came up and Prowl stopped trying to talk. "We have been aware of your relationship for some time."

Prowl felt the silence in his processor, recognized it as a precursor to one of his shutdowns. He willed the annoying glitch away; this was embarrassing enough without collapsing. Ratchet stepped further into the room, easily identifying Prowl's issue.

Meister asked the question that should have been foremost on his mind. "How?"

"Prowl told us." Ratchet replied.

Prowl shared a confused look with Meister. They had worked extremely hard to keep their relationship secret from both sides.

"He began doing things he hadn't before."

Prowl frowned. "Such as?"

"Ya took time off." Ironhide replied.

"Red Alert noticed a change in your behavior and brought his concerns to me." Optimus Prime said. "When you applied for leave we decided to monitor you."

"When was this?" Prowl's processor raced as he recalled the most recent absence he had taken.

There was an almost awkward silence between them until Ratchet crossed his arms and said. "You went to Altihex."

Prowl's optics widened and Meister coughed a few times before letting go and breaking into gales of laughter. Unable to look at his leader directly in the optic, Prowl stared at the wall instead. Of course it had to be Altihex. They hadn't seen each other in two orns and their reunion had been highly affectionate and more than a little inappropriate for public.

Meister was still laughing as he spoke. "That was a great city. I loved bein' there."

"We saw." Ironhide growled which set off Meister's laughter again.

Prowl tightened his hand around Meister's fingers in a silent request for control. Silver optics flicked to his and the laughter eased off.

"So, what are ya planning to do about it? There has to be a reason ya droppin' by before ya shut my spark down."

Prime stepped towards the berth, Ironhide close behind him. Ratchet had already taken a place at the control console and was fiddling with something there that Prowl couldn't see.

"Have you stopped your terrorizing habits, Meister?"

Shoulder plating adjusted slightly in a restrained shrug. "I still like to blow things up."

"Indiscriminately or for a purpose?"

Meister's optics narrowed at the Prime and Prowl felt him tense. "I limit my indulgences."

"That does not answer the question."

Meister's gaze was appraising, as was Optimus Prime's. Silence reigned for several seconds before Meister spoke again. "I won't attack anything that would upset Prowl."

"Have you done so to aid him?"

Silence again. "Yes."

Prowl stared at his lover as he felt the brooding gaze of Ironhide on him. This was the first he had heard of Meister being involved with anything that had to do with him outside their private lives. He certainly hadn't shared any sensitive information with the ex-Decepticon in the entire time they had been in contact. No personnel or mission files had been available to Meister, even during their interfacing sessions.

"What did you do?" The question left his lips before he was aware of it.

Meister's optics returned to his. "I removed a few obstacles. Decepticon officers, double agents, assassins, admirers."

Prowl automatically dismissed the last one. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Ya wouldn't have liked it."

"Of course not. You put yourself in danger needlessly. I am perfectly capable of handling myself."

"But ya shouldn't have to if I can do something about it. An' isn't it better when I'm handlin' ya?" Meister smirked, his brow waggling suggestively.

Prowl resisted rolling his optics at the incorrigible mech. He wasn't surprised that Meister would make such a comment with the Prime in the room. "That does not weigh into this issue."

Meister's smile widened. "I love it when ya get mad at me."

"You'd be the only one." Ironhide quipped, seemingly no longer concerned about Optimus Prime's safety.

"I'm happy wit that."

Prowl covered his face with the hand not still wrapped around Meister's. His logic center was starting to overheat in a mildly uncomfortable way. It simply defied Prowl's thinking that he could possibly be in this situation; in a room with Optimus Prime, Ironhide and Ratchet while holding hands with an ex-Decepticon spy as he bantered with Ironhide….

The shut-down heralding silence had returned and Prowl focused on the joining lines in the wall as he fought back the processor stall. The general noise of the room soon returned to normal volume just in time for Prowl to hear Optimus Prime's next spark-halting words.

"I've heard what I need to. Ratchet, please prepare for the procedure."

Prowl spark went cold, his gaze snapping over to where Ratchet was smirking at him. That was it? They had exposed Prowl's relationship and now they would just shut his lover off? Why was Ratchet smiling like that?

Meister's fingers tightened around his and Prowl looked down into silver optics. Concern stared back at him and Prowl's spark jolted in pain. How long had they been fighting to avoid this very situation? It seemed like an eternity that they had been hiding their affection from everyone.

Prowl only looked up when his leader was standing across from him. Prime's optics were compassionate and Prowl felt a bubble of hope form in his spark.

"Meister, I am going to offer you an opportunity. It will never be made again and the knowledge of it will never leave this room."

Meister's silver optics flashed to Prowl's face and they exchanged a curious look.

"During the course of your relationship I have observed a change in Prowl's behavior, and although I believe change is good I also feel that if separated so definitively Prowl will return to his former demeanor, if not become worse."

Prowl controlled the indignant frown that reflexively threatened to show on his faceplate, he understood what Prime was saying and even agreed with it. Hadn't he informed Meister that he would close himself off from the world after today?

Optimus Prime continued. "Your career is well documented and we believe your skill set would be invaluable to the Autobots."

"Are ya offerin' me a job, Prime?" Meister asked, his mouth twisted in disbelieving humor.

Prowl was almost surprised that a similar expression wasn't on his face. Was Optimus Prime truly going to offer Meister a free pass into the Autobot ranks? It was unheard of!

"Under severe restrictions. You would cease to be 'Meister' a new name and form would be found for you. Today 'Meister' deactivates permanently. Under no circumstance will you ever be able to admit to being 'Meister' or you will find yourself back in this chamber. We would require you to undergo training like any other recruit and you will be under constant observation until we decide you are no longer a threat."

Meister scoffed. "Is that likely to happen?"

"Probably not." Ironhide replied. "Since I'll be the one watching ya."

"Psychological assessments will be necessary as well." Prime continued as if the pair hadn't interrupted. "Finally, and most importantly, I offer this under the promise that a Bond will be created between you."

Prowl felt the slackness in his faceplates as he understood what Prime was saying. Meister could stay functional if he defected and they bonded. Panic swamped his system as logic subroutines worked to help him through the situation. He had considered bonding to Meister but not so suddenly, in a few vorns maybe they would have discussed it and several more after that they might have actually finalized their commitment. That was the way it had worked in Prowl's head, not like this.

Had he looked down Prowl would have seen Meister smile happily and nod slowly to Prime. As it was, Prowl was pulled from his stupor by Meister's fingers tugging at his. He shifted his gaze from Prime to his lover, staring into those stunning silver optics and felt his spark pulse sharply.

"Will ya Bond with me, handsome? Make an Autobot outta me?"

Something clicked in Prowl's chest, chasing away the panic that made him want to flee. A feeling of 'right' settled over his spark and he allowed one of his rare smiles to emerge.

"I will."

"Not yet you won't." Prime said, interrupting the moment.

Prowl looked up at his leader in confusion. "Sir? I thought that was the agreement."

"Meister will have to prove that he is dedicated without you backing him up. Once his training and assessments are complete then you can solidify your Bond. I won't have my Second in Command Bonded to a potential threat."

Prowl locked optics with Meister again, this time uncertainty stared back at him and Prowl tightened his fingers around Meister's in support.

* * *

Prowl winced as he watched Meister's former body slowly sink into the smelting pit. He knew that Meister lived, his spark and neural centre had been carefully harvested from his body and prepared for transport, but seeing the grey form being irrevocably destroyed was more than a little disconcerting.

Once the body had completely disappeared, Prowl turned the recording off and prepped the video package to be sent to the Decepticons.

He looked back one last time at the bubbling pool of molten metal before leaving the chamber. It would be a long time before he saw Meister again, or whomever Meister turned into. Prime had told him he couldn't know as that might compromise the ex-Decepticon's conversion into an Autobot. He merely had to wait until his lover appeared again.

It was a good thing he had patience to spare.

* * *

EXTRA

Optimus Prime frowned behind his battlemask as he waited for Ironhide to appear with Ratchet. Once the security systems turned off in the execution chamber a backup system would activate and the cameras in front of him would start displaying what was happening inside.

And the security within the room would be deactivated, Prime was certain of that. Prowl's carefully hidden romance with the Decepticon Meister had been a surprise no one had seen coming. It had been disturbing to think his most trusted lieutenant was fraternizing with an enemy agent, most concerning of all was that Prowl contained extremely sensitive information in his CPU. An experienced hacker and saboteur like Meister wouldn't have too much trouble accessing it.

The door opened and Ironhide ushered Ratchet inside. The medic looking around in confusion at the bare room until he saw Optimus standing in front of the bank of monitors.

"Optimus, what is going on? I was in the middle of training First Aid, the Protectobots will be shipping out soon and I want him ready."

"I understand, Ratchet, however we have a more immediate situation to deal with." Optimus replied. "Do you recall me asking you about spark transfers?"

"Of course." Ratchet huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "The procedure is still extremely dangerous. Probability of full recovery is sixty-five percent, and that's in a strong spark."

Optimus nodded. "I believe we will have to consider the option."

"For who?"

As if they were being watched by Primus, the bank of monitors lit up. Optimus turned to face the bright screens as he heard Ratchet's quiet exclamation behind him. Prowl stepped up to the berth, he was looking down at the chained Decepticon as he spoke. Prime didn't need to hear what was being said at this point and left the volume control at low. He winced internally at the degree of damage done to Meister during his interrogation.

"What happened? When was he caught?"

"Meister was found at the edge of Iacon's territory. He was captured and restrained with minimum damage done to the arresting Autobots."

"And I can assume his current state was thanks to Ironhide's heavy handed interrogation methods." Ratchet gestured at a monitor angrily. "Why wasn't I called to seal up at least some of the injuries?"

"He was marked to be executed. Didn' think we needed a medic to fix him up before we shut him down." Ironhide responded as he cracked his joints slowly.

"I did not call you in here to discuss the ethical treatment of prisoners." Prime said sternly. "We have a decision to make regarding Prowl."

All three sets of optics focused on the screens as Prowl's hand moved from Meister's cheek to his body, presumably inspecting the wounds inflicted by Ironhide and Volt.

"We need to decide if it is worthwhile keeping Meister online."

"In the brig?" ironhide asked.

"No, you idiot." Ratchet groused. "As a brand new mech. Prime wants me to do a spark transfer. Do you think it would be worth it, Optimus?"

He looked between his two longtime friends and back to the monitors. Prowl was leaning over Meister, clearly discussing something serious.

"I don't like the chances of Prowl taking the loss of his partner hard. He has become more approachable over the last vorn and it would be unacceptable to me not to consider his happiness at this time."

Ironhide gaped. "You'd consider letting a violent mech like Meister free just to keep Prowl happy?"

"He lets a violent mech like you run free." Ratchet retorted. "Where's the difference?"

Optimus ignored the banter. He saw the way Ratchet was watching the pair on screen, he had obviously seen the same thing Optimus had. The change in Prowl had started slowly, almost reluctantly, but it had grown steadily. Prime had seen him smile at one of Sideswipe's jokes only an orn ago.

"In the short term a mech as emotionally restrictive as Prowl will retreat and no doubt become more difficult to deal with. Long term, he'll be fine. But by long term, I'm talking forty to fifty vorns minimum."

"How difficult will he be, do you think?"

Ratchet pursed his lips for a moment. "Consider what Prowl was like two vorns back and multiply it by two-hundred percent. If you're deactivating Meister today I want a transfer."

Optimus scowled and saw Ironhide wince. This was worse than he'd thought, Prowl was an integral part of the Autobot command core and he needed his Second in Command to be fit and stable. A mech like Meister had helped develop Prowl's social skills and without that mech around anymore…

"If they agree I would like you to perform a spark transfer."

"I would have to get some equipment from my lab but I could do the extraction today. You understand that I'll have to go with him. Crystal City would be the best place to recreate him."

Optimus nodded. "I understand. Get what you need, we will wait for you."

Ratchet smirked and left the room. Ironhide moved to stand next to him, they both watched the monitors.

"I'm not sure letting him loose in the army is a good idea."

"He won't be. I want you to watch him while he's at basic training."

Ironhide looked startled. "Basic training? This bot has single handedly brought down entire battalions."

"I am well read on Meister's file. What I want is for him to be completely integrated into the Autobots. He will need to fight his way back to Iacon and prove that it was worth our time and investment before we allow him near Prowl again."

"Ya separating them? I thought Ratchet said he'd get worse."

"I'm not going to separate them permanently. Just long enough for Meister to establish himself as an Autobot. If he can't then we remove him."

Ironhide nodded and Optimus suspected he supported the harsher angle of the plan. Meister had caused major upsets throughout the war and had become suspiciously quiet of late. If he brought up the files he was sure he'd see a correlation between Prowl's improved attitude and Meister's drop in attacks.

Optimus averted his optics as Prowl kissed Meister. It wasn't something he wanted to see after what he'd seen from Altihex. That had been an optic-opening experience.

They had hoped to find out what had prompted the change in Prowl's behavior but were instead witnessed a reunion of lovers. Prowl had been standing alone in a courtyard one moment, the next he had a silver form jumping on him. The surveillance drone watching them had continued to record as a highly affectionate Meister encouraged Prowl to kiss him passionately out in public. It was soon apparent that the two mechs had forgotten where they were as hands started to roam. Optimus had stopped the footage at that point, not wanting to see his Second in such a manner. Ironhide had been shocked but Ratchet had pouted and demanded he turn it on again.

"Prime." Ironhide's voice was curt.

Optimus looked back to see Prowl backing away from Meister, his doorwing twitching in agitation. He flicked a switch and the volume rose.

_"Prowl, I'm sorry. Come back over here."_

They exchanged a look of surprise at the gentle tone of voice. The only sound he had heard come from Meister was a deranged cackle.

_"Dammit, Prowl! Get over here."_

Optimus watched as Prowl jerked his head up and moved slowly back to the berth. His optics were slightly unfocused until he was standing next to Meister.

_"Ya said ya wouldn' leave me."_

Optimus' spark ached at the emotionally strained voice. He understood now why Prowl had offered to observe the interrogation and be present at the execution. Prowl loved Meister and it was very obvious that Meister reciprocated. Optimus felt that he was making the right choice.

He turned off the sound again as sharp knock came through the door. Ironhide ushered Ratchet inside with a compact machine wheeled behind him.

"I hope you're sure about this, Prime. I just had to leave my medbay in the hands of two apprentice medics. You'd better not plan on going into fight until I get back."

"I will endeavor to place this war on hold until you have returned to reattach whatever body part Megatron blows off me next."

Ratchet glared at him darkly and set up his machine. "I'm going to have to use the sedative already in the chamber. I will disable the other components so he does not accidentally deactivate…that said, Ironhide, stay away from the control panel."

Ironhide flipped Ratchet a rude hand gesture and crossed his arms. Optimus was glad that his battlemask was in place as he could never control his smile when these two harassed each other.

Regaining composure, Optimus shut down the monitors. "Let's go."

* * *

**Well, what do you think? There's a second part but not sure if I will make it just one or split it into two.**

**Please review, they feed my ego.**

**TammyCat**


	2. Chapter 2

** Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!**

**You're reviews were wonderful and absolutely made me feel like I'm a far better writer than I am. Thank you.**

**I hope this chapter is as good as you thought the previous one was.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

A non-descript transport shuttled thundered across the Iacon border from the west, its cargo considered sensitive as only as only life can be. Two teams of bots sat inside, comparing notes from their last outpost training facility and trading stories. All were eager to finally get off the transport at their final stop, one mech in particular was barely able to keep his seat in excitement.

Jazz grinned happily as he gazed at the growing structure of Iacon. From this distance it was still just a mass on the horizon but Jazz could imagine the towering spires and shining buildings contained inside the dome of the city he had only been in once. That had been a long time ago, another life.

His spark jolted in his chest as he thought of how close he was to Prowl now. He hadn't been this close to Iacon in vorns. Ten to be exact, his mission had brought him to the edge of the territory and it had taken all of his willpower to keep moving instead of speeding into the heart of the city. Ten vorn since he'd seen Iacon, sixteen since he'd last seen Prowl.

He'd been stripped from his body and transported to the medical center in Crystal City. Time had passed in a blur for the unnamed mech then; orns spent designing and creating a body appropriate for his future as an Autobot followed by vorns of training amongst the new recruits and those recovering from trauma. That had been Jazz's cover, trauma victim from the attack on Tarn.

"Isn't it beautiful?" The pilot, a mech named Dash, said quietly.

"Yep, sure is." Jazz replied.

"Have you been to Iacon before?"

Jazz shook his head. "Not in this lifetime."

He patted the pilot's shoulder and climbed from the navigator's chair, with Iacon in visual range he wouldn't be necessary for a while. Jazz grabbed a small rationed energon cube and joined the mechs in the back, needing a distraction to pass the next few joors it would take to reach Iacon's city limits.

He dropped down next to Sideswipe. "What's the assignment, mechs?"

"We're heading straight to Ironhide. Advanced combat training." The red soldier replied smugly, gesturing towards his brightly coloured twin.

Jazz controlled the shudder that threatened; he still had mixed feelings towards Ironhide. He was never sure if he wanted to thank him or shoot him in the face.

Hound leaned forward. "I'm for Spec. Ops. Mirage, around here somewhere, is too."

That surprised Jazz. "I would've thought ya'd be with the operations and defense teams."

"I was meant to be but my ability to create holoforms that can hold independently for joors made them reconsider."

Jazz nodded, he could see why the Special Operations department wanted skills like that at their disposal. He could also see Hound being loaned out among the departments depending on who needed him the most.

"Where are you going?"

Jazz grinned. "I'm liaising between Ops. and tactical. Mostly I'll be working with Nightshade an' Prowl."

Sunstreaker hissed and Sideswipe winced. The sentiment was echoed by almost all of the mechs that Jazz knew to have been in Iacon more recently than himself.

"What?"

Sideswipe gave him a pitying glance. "No one really knows much about Nightshade but Prowl is a pain in the tailpipe. He used to be alright, emotionless and boring but alright. Now he's more….."

"He's a glitch." Sunstreaker finished for him.

"What d'ya mean?" Jazz asked, worry spreading through his processor. Had something happened to Prowl since they'd parted?

Sideswipe hesitated, seeming to think about what he wanted to say. Which would have been a first for the mouthy frontliner. "He's hard, there's no allowance for mistakes in his command."

"He's a tactician and Second in Command, surely he has to be like that."

"Nope, he used to give at least a little leeway." Sunstreaker replied. "He used to have emotions too, would even crack a smile occasionally but I haven't heard of that happening in vorns. He's nothing but work and rules."

"I heard he was bonded and the mech died." One of the minibots Jazz didn't know piped up.

"That's stupid, Prowl'd be dead if his Bondmate deactivated." Cliffjumper retorted.

"It would explain why he's so mean, I mean if he survived a Bondmate's death." The minibot argued.

Jazz frowned behind his visor, the one thing he'd kept from his previous life. Prowl had warned him that he would throw himself into his work but Jazz assumed that he would come out of it eventually.

The need to see his lover increased until Jazz was practically vibrating in his seat. He wanted to hold Prowl again, stroke his doorwings, see that small smile that would appear and disappear again so quickly.

But how would he do it? Clearly he couldn't just waltz into Prowl's office and announce who he was, that would bring down all sorts of trouble if anyone heard and would look kind of odd if a brand new transfer suddenly started groping the extremely serious Second in Command.

Jazz frowned again. It would be so much easier if Prowl knew who he was, but he didn't. Jazz had been banned from contacting Prowl at all during his training and assignments. He truly doubted that the Autobot Commander had told Prowl about the mech his previous lover had become. They had made this a challenge for both of them and Jazz had risen to meet it gladly.

Now that the moment of their reunion was coming closer, Jazz wasn't sure what to expect. From what these bots had said, Prowl had changed significantly from the mech Jazz had left behind. Could he bring his lover back to him? Could he prove who he was?

That thought had sent cold lancing through his spark on numerous occasions over the last sixteen vorns. It would disturb his recharge and distract him on missions. Once, he had almost lost an arm because of his sidetracked thoughts.

Ratchet had yelled at him something fierce after that. As forever grateful as Jazz would be to the medic, having him scream a lecture at him while having a partially amputated arm reattached wasn't a pleasant experience. Ratchet, aside from Ironhide, was the only mech he saw that knew who he used to be. Ratchet was also the only mech who would give him updates on Prowl, but the medic had never mentioned a change in Prowl's behavior.

Lost in his thoughts, Jazz was reasonably surprised when a shoulder bumped into him. He looked up to see Sideswipe grinning at him.

"Don't let us scare you. Prowl's fine so long as you don't glue his datapads to his desk. That gets you four cycles in the brig."

"Also, don't loosen the bolts in his chair, or disable the retractable panels." Sunstreaker added.

"Don't change the security codes on the store rooms, alter the housing plan or mess with the patrol roster." Sideswipe ticked them off on his fingers.

"Don't touch _any_ of the rosters." Sunstreaker said with a glare at his twin.

Jazz laughed. "Ya did all this to him? No wonder he's a glitch to ya."

The twins smirked at him, Sideswipe's held more than a hint of pride.

Sunstreaker slid a narrow glare at his brother and added. "Stay away from Bluestreak as well."

Sideswipe tensed momentarily and returned the dark look.

Jazz's interest rose. "Who's Bluestreak?"

"Prowl's assistant." Sideswipe replied. "Junior tactician with big blue optics and molestable doorwings."

Hound chuckled at the description while Sunstreaker continued to give them a warning glare. "Prowl's rather protective of him."

Jazz smiled. Sounded like his Prowl had found another Praxian to hang out with, not that Prowl ever just 'hung out'. He'd probably be working while the other mech talked at him. The visual made Jazz smile more.

"I'll be sure not to annoy the mech and leave his buddy alone." Jazz assured the pair. "I'll probably be too busy for a while to do anything but recharge."

"You're not alone there." Hound agreed.

"Jazz might not be alone at all." A disembodied voice came from above them.

"Raj, how many time do ya have to be told not ta do that around friendlies?" Jazz groused. It was a pet peeve that he couldn't immediately detect the spy.

The blue and white mech appeared, reclining in the storage bay above their heads. His noble features carried a decidedly amused expression.

Jazz was about to berate the mech for his invisibility again, and hopefully change the subject, but the Twins perked up and Jazz knew the damage had been done.

"Got your optic on an Iaconian mech, huh Jazz?"

Jazz sent Mirage a privately coded, death promising message before answering. "None o'ya business."

"Oh, come on. There wasn't one rumor about you floating around any of the outposts….give us some goss." Sideswipe pleaded.

Jazz shook his head. "There ain't any rumors b'cause I keep my business private."

In fact there were no rumors because Jazz hadn't interfaced with this body yet. He'd had offers from some very attractive bots along the way but he had decidedly chosen to wait and let Prowl be the one to break him in. A warmth settled around his spark as memories emerged from his time as Meister. He shut them down before he got himself into trouble.

He shot the lounging mech a warning glare. Mirage was the only one who knew of his love for Prowl, he had found a mildly over-charged Jazz talking to himself one night. Slagger had used the information to blackmail his way onto some of Jazz's teams more than once.

The expressions on the Twins, and almost everyone else, told Jazz this subject wasn't about to be dropped anytime soon. He'd suffer it for a little longer before retreating back to his seat in the cockpit.

* * *

Jazz rolled his shoulders and popped a few cricks out of his neck as he ran a shut down on the ship's systems and the mechs in the back disembarked. Excitement bubbled up in his spark so much that he couldn't keep the smile off his face. He was back in Iacon and, if the transmission he'd just received was right, Prowl was outside waiting for him. Well, not him especially but to induct the transferring mechs into the city.

Jazz allowed Dash to precede him from the cramped cockpit and used the extra few moments to compose himself. The back was now empty and Jazz moved with his usual grace and flair through the space built to carry over a hundred mechs with ease. A cool breeze came through the open hatch and Jazz smiled a little more as his plating was caressed.

He stepped from the transport just behind Dash, he could see the bots they'd brought scattered over the courtyard and at the far end he could just see Optimus Prime's head. His spark pulsed sharply, beating a frantic rhythm in his chest. That was where Prowl would be.

Jazz called his thanks to Dash, who'd be picking up some mechs and ferrying them to another posting, and moved through the crowd. Even from here he could hear the Prime's commanding voice welcoming them all. Jazz's didn't really pay attention to what was being said until the voice changed. It was a gorgeous deep voice that carried little inflection but conveyed authority. He stopped in his tracks, still too far away to see the mech, he just wanted to listen.

"Look, Sunny. Just the sound of Prowl has scared him stiff."

Jazz turned slightly to see Sideswipe and Sunstreaker off to his left. They were watching him with amusement. Jazz grinned back at them, feeling more relaxed than he had in vorns knowing he was so close to his Prowl.

"Ya bots should be listenin'."

Sunstreaker shrugged. "Nothing we haven't heard before."

Jazz nodded in agreement, it wasn't anything new. It was the same speech that you got upon entering any base. Safety protocols, evacuation points, defense positions, etc. Only this time the words were being said by Prowl and that made all the difference to Jazz.

There had been cycles during his training that he would have given everything he had, meager as that was, just to hear Prowl's voice or see his face. Now all his long vorns of suffering would be repaid. He'd fulfill the promise he'd made to Optimus Prime for his continued existence. He'd Bond with Prowl, Primus help the bot who tried to stop him.

He had a plan. A plan very similar to the one he'd used to get Prowl's attention in the first place….okay, it was the same plan but it had worked for a Decepticon, why couldn't it work for an Autobot?

Jazz pushed to the front of the crowd, desperate now to catch a glimpse of his love. He emerged in front of Prime and to the left of center stage where Prowl stood. His optics locked onto the proud arch of his doorwings and a shiver of want went through him. Prowl was still addressing the crowd, allowing Jazz time to indulge and study his long lost mate.

He hadn't changed physically; he still had the same paintwork and armour, his doorwings were pristine and held high. His fingers itched to run over them. His gaze worked up to Prowl's face and he paused. Prowl looked a lot harder than he used to be, there was a tenseness in his jaw Jazz had only seen when he was angry. His optics, once a sweet refreshing blue, were now cold and hard.

What in the Pits had happened to Prowl!?

Jazz adjusted his gaze, unsure of what to do with this overt change in his love. The Twins hadn't been wrong, in fact he suspected the issue was far worse than anyone on the ship knew.

The induction closed down and the transfers were directed to their barracks and postings. As an officer, Jazz was entitled to quarters in the central building and since he was pretending he had never been in Iacon before, he had to wait for a guide.

"Jazz, it's nice to finally have you in Iacon."

He turned swiftly and looked up and up. Jazz briefly wished he'd designed something with a bit more height.

"Thank's Prime. Ya have a nice city here."

Optimus Prime's optics softened. "We do what we can. I understand you'll be running interference between Tactical and Special Operations."

Jazz nodded. "Yep."

"A step back from your previous endeavors."

"Nah, just a different kind a challenge. Probably have less chance of bein' killed babysittn' the bots here." Jazz got the impression that Optimus was smiling and grinned back. "I guess I should be askin' where to put my bags. Seein' as I've never been in ya fair city before."

Optimus Prime nodded and looked around, Jazz did the same. He saw Ironhide smirking at him and felt the urge to punch him rise. That slagger had been dogging his footsteps ever since he'd woken up in his new body. There were a few others left in the courtyard but Prowl was not one of them.

Swiveling his head around, Jazz managed to catch a glimpse of Prowl's back and doorwings as he entered a building. Disappointment hit him hard in the spark. He hadn't expected Prowl to recognize him but he could have at least shown some professional courtesy and introduced himself.

Jazz scoffed internally, amused that he was even thinking of 'professional courtesy' when only a few joors ago he was contemplating how he was going to take Prowl against his desk.

"Let's go to my office first and discuss your task here before you retire to your quarters."

Jazz nodded and followed his new leader. He would deal with Prowl later; he'd already spent sixteen vorns creating and cementing his new persona and reputation, he could wait another couple of cycles before starting his campaign to win back Prowl's spark.

* * *

"Jazz."

He whipped around to see Nightshade coming up the hallway.

"Hey, long time no see."

Nightshade, Director of Special and Clandestine Operations, smiled. "It's good to see you. I have to say, I was surprised when the Prime told me you were transferring. I thought you had a good deal out in Kalis."

"Yeah, I did, but on to bigger an' better things. Iacon's the place to be."

"And you do like being in the center of the action."

Jazz laughed, pleased that he'd run into Nightshade so early. He liked Nightshade, they had worked together on several projects out of Kalis. The mech was quiet and more interested in watching the bots around him than joining whatever activity was happening.

Jazz thought the similarity to Prowl was what made him so comfortable with the other mech. His Prowler was more inclined to stand back than contribute unnecessarily. His spark ached as he thought of Prowl; he missed the mech even more now that they were so close again.

"Can' help but be me'self. So, I'm guessing ya volunteered to show me around?"

"Actually I came to speak to Optimus Prime but I think that can wait for now. We have some catching up to do." Nightshade smiled and waved his hand to motion Jazz forward. "Now, tell me, did you have a hand in the explosion of Helex's armaments?"

"I might have been in the area, might not." Jazz replied knowing full well that Nightshade was read in on most of his missions.

"I thought I detected your flair, you have a unique style."

Jazz's grin widened and he preened. It was nice to have his work praised. Helex had been a slagger of a job to complete too; he almost hadn't made it out before the explosion. The base medic, First Aid, had lectured him as he'd treated the burns and melted components. From the way the bot had been talking, Jazz suspected he'd been trained by Ratchet.

Jazz followed Nightshade through the base, making a mental map until he had a chance to download one. He was reading a plaque on a wall dedicated to fallen soldiers when Nightshade called out.

"Ah, Prowl. Have you met our liaison yet?"

Jazz turned and felt a funny jolt in his chest as his optics landed on the approaching mech. Prowl's face was closed, every line held with rigid control and Jazz just wanted to jump on him. His circuitry tingled as his spark pumped extra energy through his system in its eagerness to be near Prowl.

"I have not. Although I remain curious as to why we require a liaison now when we have not previously."

Jazz almost shivered in delight as that voice flowed over his audio sensors.

Nightshade smirked. "I suppose Prime just wants someone to keep us on track."

One of Prowl's brows twitched and Jazz restrained himself from reaching up and smoothing it out.

"I ain't that bad, mechs." Jazz said.

Prowl turned his optics on him and Jazz saw something flicker in their depths.

His spark surged, does he know? Can he tell it's me? They had touched sparks only a handful of times during their more uninhibited moments but it had forged a fledgling link between them. Jazz's end of the link thrummed with remembered sensations. A slight crease appeared on Prowl's faceplates as they watched each other. Jazz drank in the sight of his lover, all that smooth metal molded to the most perfect angles. Jazz was pleased his optics were hidden from showing all the love and need that was spilling out of them at the moment

He smiled casually. "It's a pleasure to meet cha, Prowl."

"Indeed." He returned to looking at Nightshade and Jazz felt himself deflate. "Please excuse me; I have a meeting I would prefer not to be late for."

"Of course, Prowl." Nightshade stepped out of his way and Prowl disappeared around a corner.

Jazz stared at the wall where Prowl had gone. "Is he always so talkative?"

"That was positively friendly for Prowl. Usually the new transfers get a glare." Nightshade replied as they began walking again.

Jazz frowned under his visor as he followed Nightshade into his office. The room was spacious if sparse, the only furniture being a desk and a couple of chairs. The walls were lined with shelves, each one full of files that would get a lower ranked mech killed for peeking at. Jazz made himself comfortable in the visitors chair while Nightshade eased down into the cushier seat opposite him.

"Prowl has a point, though. We haven't needed a liaison before; frankly I'm curious why you're here as well." Nightshade pinned him with a look as Jazz froze. "While you're telling me that you can also explain what it was I just saw with Prowl."

"I'm not sure what ya talkin' about."

"If you are going to lie to me, Jazz, at least go to the effort of making it convincing. I may not be in the field anymore but I can still spot a mech that's keeping secrets. And you, my friend, carry more secrets than you know what to do with. I have been investigating this since I heard you were being transferred here to take up a position that didn't exist."

Jazz stared, he had nothing. Optimus Prime hadn't mentioned that the role he was taking wasn't an existing one and now Nightshade was on to him?…Damn. Scrap. Frag! How was he going to get out of this? Nightshade was incredibly smart and playing him as a fool would only get Jazz in all kinds of trouble. Best get this as close to the truth as possible.

"Okay, I'm doin' some private work for Prime. He needs me here in a spot where I'm involved and not sent out on assignments."

"Your investigation concerns Ops or tactical? Or both?"

_It concerns Prowl and those sexy doorwings._

Jazz stilled, hoping he hadn't accidentally whispered his thought out loud. "Ya askin' for details on an open investigation."

"I'm looking to keep my mechs safe."

"I'm not here to dig up dirt. I know better than most what we're capable of. I'm just after some information."

"Does that information relate to Prowl?"

"Details, Nightshade." Jazz replied before leaning forward. "Though I wouldn' mind gettin' to know Prowl, if ya know what I mean."

Nightshade leaned back in his chair and chuckled. "By the way his doorwings were twitching while you were optic-facing each other, I don't think he'd mind getting to know you right back."

Optic-facing? Really? Did that mean Prowl had shown a reaction to him? Jazz's spark sang in triumph.

Jazz let some interest grow on his face. "I must have been watching the wrong conversation. I hardly call meetin' the new mech 'optic-facing', not that I wouldn' be open t'it."

Nightshade smirked. "Usually I would agree with you, however I have worked with Prowl for a long time and I'm probably one of the few that he might count as a friend. I haven't seen him have that reaction to a bot in a long time. You're a mystery that is compelling me to dig."

Jazz fell silent, it wasn't a state he necessarily liked but right now he had to be careful with what he said. Nightshade was closer than anyone had ever been to finding out Jazz had more than the usual protoforms in his closet.

"Optimus Prime has requested that I do some investigations for him." Jazz said carefully. "I was placed as a 'liaison' since you and I have history. Nothing more sinister. Prowl and I have never met before." A sly smile grew on his lips. "But I'd be very interested in whatever ya could tell me so I could get closer to him."

Nightshade snorted and shook his head but didn't ask any further questions. Jazz relaxed slightly but not by much, he didn't want Nightshade looking into his or Prowl's past. His past stopped at Crystal City, the flimsy backstory wouldn't hold up under too much pressure and Jazz couldn't risk being discovered as Meister and he really didn't want to have to kill Nightshade.

Jazz turned the conversation away from dangerous territory, towards the current active assignments Nightshade had going. The Ops leader took the cue and followed, filling Jazz in on the missions and the work they were doing with the tactical department. They stayed on topic for some time, Jazz putting forward his ideas and debating with Nightshade how they would be best put into action.

His interest increased as he began to understand the formula Nightshade used to put together his assignments. Jazz could easily see himself adding his helping hand when necessary should Nightshade need it. Nightshade explained the situation he would be walking into but Jazz laughed his concerns off, he didn't think he'd need to walk on ped-tips around Prowl and his department.

* * *

Jazz glared into his cube. Frustration had prompted him to find a cube of high-grade and try and sort out his processor. He needed a new plan, his current one wasn't working. Two orns had passed and he was no closer to revealing himself to Prowl than he was the day he arrived.

His assumption that Prowl would come around and notice him had turned out to be wrong…No, not just wrong. Fabulously wrong. Amazingly wrong.

Prowl hadn't spared him a glance outside their regular meetings. He had thought Prowl would seek him out after their initial meeting, maybe be curious about him as Nightshade had said he didn't react to anyone.

He swirled the liquid slowly, Jazz was certain he'd go insane soon if nothing continued to happen. His confidence had taken a blow when he couldn't even get Prowl to talk to him socially, never mind respond to his flirting. The mech seemed ingrained in his work with little outside interests…for the first time in a long time Jazz felt lost. He had no desire to keep throwing himself at a mech who refused to see he was still alive.

At the same time he was angry. Prowl had promised him to stop being so introverted. He had promised to make friends and from what jazz could see he had made two and wasn't interested in increasing that number.

The only way Jazz had learned anything about his estranged lover was from his assistant, Bluestreak. The young Praxian had been more than happy to relate all he could about Prowl when Jazz had shown his interest in getting to know him. He could see Bluestreak was also concerned about Prowl's isolation and for that care Jazz would be eternally grateful. He might even reward the little mech by getting him some alone time with the Twins one of these days.

It wasn't hard to see that Sideswipe and Sunstreaker's fascination was returned by the smaller mech but Bluestreak was kept closely protected by Prowl and another Praxian.

Jazz groaned as his schedule chimed at him; he had another meeting with Prowl in a joor. Jazz looked into the energon cube and wondered idly if he could successfully drown himself in what was left.

He'd endured one tedious meeting after another with the one or both of the mechs and Jazz could understand why Prime would want to have a third party there to move them along. Nightshade and Prowl could talk. Endlessly. Not in the way Bluestreak did but still they managed to almost put Jazz into recharge as they carefully debated the best way to achieve their goals.

Not even Jazz's most ingrained upbeat attitude had been enough to survive the endless discussion of percentages and rates of success. He had copped a decidedly nasty glare from Prowl when he dared suggest that seventy-two percent was good enough; Prowl had stated that eighty-seven percent was the lowest he would accept.

Jazz lowered his head to the table. All his emotional ups and downs dealing with Prowl had him exhausted. He couldn't stop the happy whirling of his spark every time he saw his lover and yet that was almost always squashed by Prowl's dismissal of him.

His comm. unit pinged and he answered it without removing his head from the table. "Jazz here."

:Jazz, would you be available for a few joors?: Nightshade asked.

"I have a meetin' wit Prowl in a joor. Ya got somethin' that'll get me outta it?"

Nightshade laughed. :I need a mech to show the newbies some maneuvers.:

Jazz straightened and rolled his neck. "What sort o' maneuvers?"

:The kind that makes you wish you lived behind a desk.:

He grinned in anticipation. Those were the best sort; he could fall back on his Decepticon past and no one twitched an optic. "I'm ya mech. Give me a few breems to get my gear together."

Jazz knocked back the last of his high-grade and stood, the extra energy in the liquid that usually led to being overcharged was spreading through him in preparation for the grueling 'games' he was headed to.

* * *

Prowl could feel the small frown forming between his brows. He usually would smooth out his faceplates to project an unruffled image, that he was frowning at all was a testament to how annoyed he was.

The liaison had failed to attend their scheduled meeting. Prowl had waited patiently as he knew what the Special Operations mechs could be like, yet when more than half a joor passed without any communication from the mech he had begun to get annoyed.

The liaison, as Prowl preferred to think of him, had demonstrated a range of behaviors since his arrival in Iacon. He was spontaneous and unpredictable, not a quality Prowl enjoyed but he could understand that it was an essential skill for the mechs in the liaison's field.

That a mech had been chosen for the position he was in now had surprised Prowl. Normally he would have expected Optimus Prime to select a bot with more administrative experience. The liaison had surprised him again with the level of understanding he had for organizing mechs. Nightshade had informed him that the liaison had been in a command position in Kalis, a black ops situation, but that his skills were easily transferable to more mainstream duties.

Confusing Prowl even further, he had noticed the mech trying to socialize with him outside of their scheduled meetings. Prowl assumed that the mech merely liked talking or that it was part of some elaborate practical joke devised by the Twins he was friends with. That was a far more likely answer to the situation; mechs simply didn't seek him out for the pleasure of his company.

Prowl recalled his first meeting with the liaison, in a hallway on his way to meet with Ultra Magnus. Nightshade had been pleased that the mech was being transferred to Iacon but Prowl was certain he had been confused by the posting as well. Prowl had not been expecting to meet the liaison before their first official meeting but he had been standing there with Nightshade and only Prowl's innate sense of politeness had made him stop.

When Prowl had finally faced the new mech directly his spark had started pulsing wildly and for a moment Prowl had thought his lover had returned. Jazz's first words had shattered that hope; his lover would have said something different, made himself known somehow. Probably by using that terrible nickname.

Memories of the past edged in on his processor but Prowl ruthlessly shoved them back. He wouldn't give in to self-pity when there was work to be done. Meister had disappeared sixteen vorns ago as a disembodied spark and processor and hadn't shown up or sent word of his functionality. Truthfully, Prowl had all but given up on seeing his lover again. He still kept the visor Meister had given him, it sat on his desk, a reminder of the sacrifices he had made for the war.

However he was contemplating the liaison as he moved through the base. Nightshade had repeatedly reminded him that the mech's name was Jazz and that he was really a nice bot if he would just spend a little time with him away from work. Prowl resolutely refused, he had made the effort before and he'd had to smelt the body that had brought him such delight. It was bad enough he felt his spark warm whenever the liaison entered a room.

Prowl entered Nightshade's department and aimed straight for the 'training facility'. Officially they didn't have a place for training specialized operatives within Iacon. Unofficially this was the place to find any missing Ops agents while on base. They would use the course built into Iacon's foundations to hone their skills, Nightshade was even known to run the course occasionally.

The presence of the facility was known only to those with the highest clearance and the operatives themselves. Prowl was certain Nightshade disguised its location from his own agents too.

Prowl's optics narrowed as he descended into the bowels of Iacon. Up ahead he could hear the sounds of mechs talking, there were more than a few mechs down here that should have been up on the surface doing their duties. It was a point of contention between him and Nightshade, the Operations Director was protective of his agents and had declared that they needed the time to train even when they should be building covers for themselves amongst the general population.

Prowl stepped onto the observation deck and aimed for his longtime associate. Nightshade was pointing out sections to his recruits, their optics were all locked on the monitors in front of them.

"Prowl, what brings you down here?" Nightshade asked before Prowl had crossed the room.

"The liaison is late for our meeting. My information has him located here."

Nightshade chuckled. "One day I will find out where you get your information. I had to borrow Jazz for a training demonstration. He should be done soon, in fact you've arrived for the best part."

Prowl moved to the bank of screens, there were countless cameras setup along the course to catch the progress of the agents. Prowl had watched numerous bots go through the challenges on these monitors. He focused on the main screen to see that Jazz was climbing along the pipes attached to the ceiling of his course.

"I don't recognize the layout of this course. Which is it?"

"Six."

A slight widening of his optics was the only evidence of Prowl's surprise. "I thought you said no mech had ever made it to six."

Nightshade nodded. "They hadn't, until Jazz. His style is different to the usual, he's more aggressive. It's been a while since I've seen skills like his."

Prowl watched as the mech flipped down from his high road and snapped a drone in half. In this scenario Jazz would have to get from one end to the other without being seen or 'tagged' by the drones. Each drone had advanced programming that became more sophisticated with each level. At level six the drones should have been able to detect his energy signature as he passed over them.

"There is not much in his file on where he received his training." Prowl said quietly, not that the recruits were paying any attention to them. "I have only that he was a victim in the attack on Tarn and his following records within the army."

"Jazz is pretty quiet about his past. Had a lot of trauma from Tarn, spent close to a vorn in Crystal City recovering. From what I understand he had most of his body rebuilt there."

Prowl frowned. "His frame is not a model native to Tarn, Crystal City or their surrounding areas. I am curious as to where he came from."

"I doubt Jazz is native to anywhere, he designed his body after the attack which is why it doesn't really belong to anywhere. There are bits and pieces of different cultures all through his frame."

He studied the form slinking through the labyrinth and saw that Nightshade was correct. A Polyhexian helm sat over a frame more suited to Altihex. His flashy paintwork was indicative of Kalis and there was distinct evidence of Kaon in his movements. The mech truly was strange and yet he managed to pull all these different elements together into a very graceful frame.

"Here comes the best bit." Nightshade grinned and nodded to one of the recruits. A quick pull of a lever and the lights in the training ground blacked out.

Prowl's optics locked onto the main screen, it displayed a night-vision image of Jazz standing frozen in place. A quick glance at Nightshade's grinning face had Prowl confused.

"I've only seen him do this once during a job in Darkmount." Nightshade said softly.

Prowl continued to watch the screen and felt some amusement when Jazz turned a frown towards the camera. The liaison then tensed as a drone moved down the hallway parallel to him, his head was tilted down and to the side. Then he did something that had Prowl's guards shattering and gaping at the screen like everyone else.

The back armor lifted and two delicate panes unfolded. The back panel lowered again and Jazz stood there with two doorwings quivering in the darkness. The wings were lovely in their slim, compact design and curved tips. Prowl had never seen a design like that before, they were as unique as the mech they were attached to.

A bolt of heat slammed through Prowl's spark as he watched the panels wave and flutter in the air, sending out signals only those with wings could understand. Signals he was sure the liaison didn't mean to be radiating.

His hands clenched to still the desire to caress those delicate panels. They weaved and dipped, an invitation if he ever saw one. What would he do if he could get his hands on those panels? Not only the panels but the rest of that strangely attractive body? He pushed the thoughts away, and glared at the screen. What was it about this mech that made his body react this way? For vorns he had only been able to think of Meister and now here he was suddenly wanting to interface with someone new.

Self-disgust rose in Prowl's spark, dousing the yearning heat.

"He is not Praxian." Prowl said through clenched denta.

Nightshade nodded, not noticing Prowl's inner turmoil or pretending he didn't. "They're dedicated to an old friend I think. Definitely makes him more effective in situations where visual data is unreliable. I'm contemplating getting retro fitted."

An undignified scoffing sound came from Prowl's vocalizer. "Inform the liaison that our next meeting has been cancelled. I will contact him with a new time."

He ignored Nightshade's look of surprise and turned away, leaving the Special Operations agents to study their superior's moves.

The walk back to his office was a blur as Prowl attempted to understand the conflict between his spark and his processor. He breezed past Bluestreak and locked the door to his office.

Sitting in his chair, he dropped his head into his hands. His spark and processor fought each other in his helm. One was desperately trying to convince him that Jazz was Meister, there were clues that indicated as much yet his processor argued that he couldn't possibly be his lost lover.

His lover had never failed to declare his presence even when behind Autobot lines, why would he do so now? Jazz had been in Iacon for over two orns and not once had he implied that he shared a past with Prowl. He had attempted to socialize with him but after Prowl has told him no the mech had stopped.

No, Jazz most definitely was not Meister.

His spark rebelled; what about the surge when they had first met? It demanded. What about the vague background and the doorwings created for an old friend? Why was he the only mech Prowl had found physically enticing in over sixteen vorns?

A rough groan escaped his vocalizer and Prowl shut off his optics. His spark ached with the desire for Meister to return, he had given up hope so long ago that maybe he was finally moving on.

His spark cried out in denial, he didn't want another mech, he wanted Meister to return and punch Jazz in the faceplates. No, that wouldn't happen. Meister would probably find Jazz attractive and try to convince Prowl into sharing him.

A soft smile edged up his faceplates and he reached for the visor. Without being attached to a mech it was a soft white crystal, partially opaque. It's perfectly cut edges were almost razor sharp, the attachment points had small webs of circuitry that would allow the mech it was attached to give it colour.

Prowl recalled the moment he has smashed Meister's visor in an effort to escape him, the blow had stunned the then Decepticon but it had allowed Prowl to see the silver optics beneath. He'd never seen silver optics before, most bots had coloured lenses – red and blue predominantly worn by Decepticons and Autobots respectively. Neutral bots usually chose to have green, purple or golden optics. Silver was considered colourless, almost like having no optics at all.

Meister's had been different, they had sparkled with mischief when he had been courting Prowl and shifting to a platinum tone when he'd been aroused.

Prowl placed the visor back on his desk, memories of Meister still floating in his processor. He could wait a little longer for his lover to return, not even the alluring form of his liaison would distract him.

* * *

"Ohhh, who are we pranking?"

Jazz jerked as his solitude was interrupted by two large forms dropping onto the couch.

"No one."

"Oh, come on. That's your planning face. Let me help?" Sideswipe pleaded.

"I'm not plannin' on prankin' anyone. Just plannin' in general."

Sunstreaker scoffed. "You planning anything is a prank."

The Twins stretched out on either side of him and Jazz felt irritation flow through his circuitry. He really didn't need the Twins input right at this moment. Prowl had been avoiding him ever since he'd missed their meeting. Nightshade had told him Prowl had watched part of his run through the course but Jazz couldn't think that would have made Prowl avoid him. It was an open secret that he was a covert operative; his file was full of blanked pages only the highest of clearance could read. He was quite proud of his success as an Autobot and yet here he was wondering if that was what made Prowl run away.

He growled softly as the Twins bantered over his head. He needed to find a way into Prowl's office without the little guardmech from stopping him. Bluestreak had become a slight nuisance since Prowl had gone into hiding, blocking him from getting in to see Prowl.

Speaking of the slagmaker, the little grey and black mech was moving through the commissary towards the energon dispenser. An idea popped into his head and the 'planning' face Sideswipe had accused him of having appeared. The Twins had both still and quieted when Bluestreak had walked in, giving Jazz plenty of confidence in his plan.

The little Praxian was clearly lost in his thoughts as he waited for a free machine, his lips moved every few seconds as if he was having a conversation with himself. Jazz noted, with amusement, that the Twins turned predatory optics on the mech. Sideswipe's was more obvious but Sunstreaker's look was more intense.

Satisfied that his plan was going to work he waved at Bluestreak as he headed for the door.

"Hey, Blue!"

The Praxian smiled and trotted towards them, the cubes he carried tilting in his hands. Jazz grinned as the mechs beside him tensed.

"That's a lot of energon for one mech, ya plannin' on gettin' overcharged?" Jazz said, gesturing casually at the four cubes he was carrying.

Bluestreak adjusted his hold on the cubes. "I wish. Prowl's got me working double shifts with him until this whole mess with Gygax blows over. The commanders there are putting more paperwork on his desk that all of the Wreckers combined."

Jazz hid is frown under his visor, he knew exactly what was going on in Gygax and it wasn't that big enough of a deal to be working double shifts. Or forcing your assistant to work them with you. Jazz suspected this was part of Prowl's plan to avoid him. If he was constantly working Jazz wouldn't be able to find him in the hallways.

Jazz jumped to his feet and took three of the cubes from Bluestreak. "Here, let me help ya with that. Ya've been working double shifts for cycles and ya need your rest just like everyone else, I'll take these to Prowl. Sideswipe, Sunstreaker, will you two help my friend unwind?"

Bluestreak's optics went wide as he seemed to finally realize who had been sitting with Jazz. Doorwings quivered in a way Jazz recognized, he hid his smirk as he pushed the mech to take his previous spot between the Twins. The poor mech looked terrified as he clutched his remaining cube to his chest yet he could tell that he was more scared of his own reaction to the Twins than anything else.

With a final wave, Jazz left the Praxian to the tender mercies of the Twins and aimed for Prowl's office. His spark pulsed eagerly as it did every time he came down this hallway. The mere thought of being near Prowl still put his spark into overdrive.

The door was sealed with a code but Jazz didn't think too hard as he hacked it with one hand, the other balancing the energon cubes. After a moment the door hissed open and Jazz scanned the small area Bluestreak worked in. It was roughly half the size of Prowl's office just beyond, filing cabinets and data consoles took up most of the space. He could see the evidence of Bluestreak's long joors on his desk.

He moved swiftly to the connecting door and shoved it open, unsurprisingly he saw Prowl hunched over his desk, industriously working on a set of datapads. Jazz could tell each one was almost full to capacity by the little flashing light on the top.

Prowl didn't look up as Jazz stepped closer, his optics moving over the piles of datapads and data-sticks that took up the main space on Prowl's desk.

"I heard ya were busy but this is ridiculous."

Prowl jolted, his doorwings sweeping up in surprise. Ice blue optics widened marginally and Jazz knew Prowl was more affected by his unannounced visit than he showed. He dropped the cubes onto the piles of datapads, one tipped and rolled across the desk. Prowl stared at the cube before straightening.

"Where is Bluestreak?"

"Havin' a break. He's been on doubles for a deca-cycle, he's not capable of takin' that sorta punishment."

"Work is not a punishment." Prowl replied. "You may see it that way but others do not."

Jazz glared at his counterpart. As much as he still loved Prowl, it was getting increasingly frustrating that he couldn't even pin him down for long enough to get his work done.

"I like my job, Prowl, despite what ya might think. And I have some work that needs to be done but that ain't happening until ya stop avoidin' me."

Jazz paused, his processor repeating his words back to him and he almost laughed. Meister was well and truly dead if he was complaining that he couldn't get any work done rather than complaining that he wasn't getting any from the sexy mech in front of him.

"I informed you that our meeting would be rescheduled."

Jazz threw his hands in the air. "That was over an orn ago!"

"Yes, and the situation in Gygax has interrupted many duties across the base."

He braced his hands on the desk and leaned in. "No part of what is happening in Gygax should compromise the work being done by the covert operatives. We need the information they can get us and ya stubbornness is puttin' more than one operation at risk."

Prowl tensed but Jazz ignored the reaction, his temper finally cracking after being kept at arms-length for so long.

"I know I missed tha meetin', I'm sorry. I should have told ya I was doin' a display for the mechs but ya know what, I didn't cause it's become too frustratin' dealin' wit ya. Ya hold me back and don't communicate fully, I feel like ya don't want me to get too close to ya and that's really pissin' me off. What did I do to make ya so skittish?"

Prowl stood slowly and Jazz backed off, he could see the conflict in Prowl's optics but didn't quite understand it. He used to be able to read Prowl like a book but the changes in him had stopped that.

"I would appreciate it if you would leave my office. I have a window in my schedule in two cycles, if that would be agreeable with you." There was restrained emotion in Prowl's voice but Jazz couldn't tell if it was anger or something else.

Taking what he was offered would have to do, Jazz realized. Prowl was clearly under the pump with the crap the mechs were pulling in Gygax and he really didn't want to strain Prowl any further. From this distance he could see the effect the long cycles were having on Prowl.

"Fine. Jus' one last thing."

Jazz leaned in across the desk, bringing one hand up to grab Prowl's helm. He pulled Prowl in and pressed his lips against his. Prowl was unresponsive but Jazz hadn't really expected anything else, he was still waiting for Meister. It was that loyalty that kept Jazz in love with the frustrating mech.

Despite Prowl's stillness the softness Jazz had always known was there, the faint taste of energon and the tangy flavor of Prowl's metal. His spark shuddered in its chamber and Jazz had to forcibly control the urge to climb over the desk and reclaim Prowl as his.

With the force of his desire shaking his plating, Jazz released Prowl and left the office without another word. The door closed with a soft 'click' behind him. He managed to make it into his quarters before he sagged to the ground, his legs giving out under him.

The heat that had bloomed in his spark while kissing Prowl simmered under his armor. Jazz tipped his head back against the door, his vents humming dully as he enjoyed the sweet torture of his need. His mind played back the feel of Prowl's lips, lips he hadn't touched for far too long. Their shape and texture burned indelibly in his processor.

What in the Pits had he been thinking? He'd kissed Prowl. Straight up kissed him without even giving the mech a warning. Jazz groaned; he hadn't been thinking, he'd just listened to the desire in his spark and acted.

If Prowl had been avoiding him before he would probably disappear from the base now.

Jazz rubbed his hands across his face, it would be just his luck if Prowl realized who he was after that move. He'd exposed himself through the sheer stupidity of his actions. Jazz could only think that he still kissed the same as he had when he was Meister, he hadn't really practiced on anyone since becoming Jazz. Well, he'd kissed Ratchet quickly in thanks for putting him in a new body but that was it.

Jazz froze as an epiphany came to him…what did it matter if Prowl found out who he was? Prowl was the one mech he wanted to know. Ironhide, Ratchet and even Prime could suck Unicron's tailpipe for all he cared. Prowl was the one who needed to know he was alive and in Iacon.

A smile grew on his face as tension bled from his frame. He would tell Prowl, he couldn't wait for the mech to figure it out for himself. The oblivious bot probably hadn't even noticed Jazz flirting with him during their meetings together. Slag, it had taken vorns for him to see that Meister had wanted to get into his armor and not deactivate him.

Jazz didn't have any more vorns to give. He was at the end of his impressive patience and he wanted results.

Happy with the direction of his thoughts, Jazz clambered to his feet and moved around his room. He wouldn't just spring the information on Prowl during their meeting but he could definitely give out some major clues that just might spur the mech into asking.

If he didn't take the bait…well, Jazz wasn't above sneaking into a mech's quarters in the middle of their recharge cycle.

* * *

**Okay, my darlings, I have a request for you. There will be a part 3 - the revelation - and I would like your input as to how it will happen.**

**1. In Prowl's office**

**2. Jazz sneaks into Prowl's quarters**

**a. steamy**

**b. fluffy**

**I have ideas and partially written scenes for both options but I can only post one. Please review or send me a PM with a number and letter, the one with the highest vote wins!**

**If you have an idea you'd particularly like to see, let me know and I'll try to incorporate it.**

**Much love, TammyCat.**

**P.S. you should totally go read my PxJ Christmas story...just saying ;)**


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